Rain
by Queen Nightingale
Summary: Oh, how we love these Hogwarts-romances. Scorpius/Lily; Drama/Romance. It's good, I promise. Just read it.
1. Chapter 1

**INTRODUCTION**

* * *

Scorpius Malfoy was just a boy.

Really.

Well, a boy in the sense of being a teenager, I suppose. Not so much a young boy.

And a pretty damn attractive boy, at that. Somehow he managed to become the most striking of the Malfoy men; a smoother face than his gaunt father's, but still more well-defined than his grandfather. Elegant and aristocratic. But with a hint of trouble.

Somewhere deep within those icy eyes a thread of mischief held strong and refused to waver. His father must have noticed it early on, but typical of a Malfoy father, turned a blind eye to the bad-boy doings of his son. His grandfather, on the other hand, was probably rolling in his grave.

The Malfoys had somehow managed, two or three years or so after 'The Battle' (as his father referred to it) to turn public opinion back in their favour, or at least, back to what it used to be. Draco wed Astoria Greengrass, a buxom, attractive brunette, in a typical Slytherin wedding (although, untypically Slytherin, it was not arranged). Maintaining their infamous wealth, Draco dove into a variety of enterprises, managing to make a small fortune off of a muggle Button factory that he took over, and then making a large fortune in magical real estate, even selling a Scottish estate to his former enemy, Potter (although Potter, being a stupid Gryffindor, innocently bought it at 3X the selling price). Whose family, to be honest with you, the Malfoys still secretly spat at. Just in this new era, from behind closed doors.

But Astoria Malfoy (nee Greengrass) and Draco Malfoy struggled for a couple of years on the decision whether or not to have children. Astoria loved kids, and surprisingly, Draco could put up with them; but Draco was convinced that he would be a terrible parent. Five years after their wedding, after a night with one too many tequila sunrises and sex on the beaches on a vacation down to the Caribbean, Astoria broke the news to a sleepy Draco; she was pregnant.

Draco, still suffering from a brutal hangover, thought she was joking.

Scorpius Malfoy was born one year later, on February 19th, a screaming and incredibly pissed off seven pounds and four ounces. (Little did the Malfoys know that Albus Potter was born two months after that exact date.) Joyously pampering her only son, Astoria spoiled him rotten (as every Malfoy mother should), bringing him to socialite gatherings where he soon gathered quite a following with the older daughters of influential families, who cooed over the adorable toddler.

And thus, Scorpius grew up in the typical Malfoy household; he had it all and he knew he deserved nothing less than the best. And in a household where there were few rules, since Draco and Astoria agreed that their son should never be stifled as they were, Scorpius grew up freely, having a fun and daring personality that no other Malfoy was ever allowed to have.

From the way he was raised, you would never have expected how he turned out. Scorpius was debonair in a way that made older socialite daughters kiss his cheeks and let him fondle their breasts. Even before Hogwarts, he was brutally gorgeous, with the infamous pale Malfoy hair (although his was a darker blond; probably due to Astoria) and complexion, and a body and face seemingly carved from marble; one of the taller of his friends, the boy who led the premature pack of soon-to-be Slytherins. His hair swept charmingly over his face, his eyes were rimmed with lengthy dark lashes, and his clothes were always perfect, in a typical Londoner fashion; his pants creating that perfect saggy-assed private school boy appearance, his top lengthily fitting his body.

And that was when he was nine.

Then, later on, the Hogwarts letter came and Scorpius was carted happily off to a world of magic, with his huge textbooks, leather suitcases, a wand of rowan 9 and ¾ inches with dragon heartstring, and a great horned owl called Harriet. Astoria cried as he waved goodbye on the train, and then turned to Draco, who cockily said, "He'll do fine. He's a Malfoy, after all."

And it was true. He did fine. No, he was not a snivelling mess like Albus Potter was, nor was he a warm bundle of red curls like Rose Weasley. He acted like a dashing prince, and even the older grades noticed it, whispering to themselves about how sexy and popular the Malfoy was turning out to be. Maybe he'd bring the Slytherin house back, if he got sorted in there.

And yes, he was sorted in there. Do you honestly think that Scorpius would be anything but a Slytherin?

Ravenclaw was too nerdy (there were a lot of pretty girls, but the males were a bunch of comic-book geeks), Hufflepuff was too loyal (Scorpius was never loyal to anyone; people were loyal to him, instead), and Gryffindor was just … well … too damn nauseating. As the other cool house (everyone wants to be in Slytherin or Gryffindor, because really, those are the noticeable ones), Gryffindor was really just too much of a do-gooder. Scorpius, sure, was a bit of a do-gooder, but not an obvious one.

God, really. The other biographers out there are just so idiotic, sometimes. Could you really imagine a (weak, slow and nervous) Malfoy chumming with the Potters and Weasleys, who comfort him about his terrible childhood and 'abusive' father while accepting him kindly into their clan (despite warnings from their respective parents that he's up to no good), eventually leading to Malfoy making out with one of the family's brood, emotionally sobbing and stifling back snot-filled tears as he does so since he's just so damn happy that he's finally getting to kiss a Potter/Weasley?

If you can, please go dunk your head in frigid water for a couple seconds. If you still imagine that happening, punch yourself in the head. Repeatedly.

That scenario above? Really never happened.

Scorpius spent four exciting (although traumatic to Headmistress McGonagall) years at Hogwarts, engaging in things from pranking the Fat Lady to only open to the password: "Scorpius Malfoy is a Slytherin Sex God" in first year (to which Draco, receiving a letter from McGonagall indicating what his son had done, burst into laughter, at which Astoria glared at him) to charming Albus Potter's pants to look continuously peed in (to which Albus retaliated by spelling Scorpius' hair blue for a day, which actually fit with Scorpius' edgy appeal) in second year to making Beater on the Slytherin Team in third year (he missed try-outs second year because of detention), helping his team win the House Cup for the first time in eight years. His fourth year … well, it's about to start.

Puberty had Scorpius shoot up to a relatively decent height of 5"10, broadened his shoulders a teensy bit and put muscle where there used to be baby fat. His hair darkened even more, to a medium ash blond, which Scorpius kept in a side-sweep across his forehead, while his nose maintained his aristocratic perfection (but not in a snobby way), and his lips turned a slightly darker shade of peach. His constant vacations to the Caribbean resulted in (if you looked hard enough), a spattering of tiny freckles across his nose, while the rest of his body maintained his creamy tone. Under his clothes, his body became more defined, making the Hogwarts uniform hang devastatingly on his body; and yes, like he had as a child, he still maintained that perfect saggy-assed Londoner private school boy appearance.

Have you ever gone on a social networking site to reconnect with a long-lost friend, just to be amazed at the way that they look simultaneously the same and simultaneously different? Maybe their nose got rounder, they lost weight, or their eyes got smaller. Scorpius got overall more attractive. Yes, it was possible.

You're probably still wondering why Lily Luna Potter was mentioned as being part of this biography.

You'll find out soon enough.

I'm about to take you on a fantastic journey through Scorpius Malfoy's fourth year at Hogwarts. (And hopefully his fifth, sixth, etc.).

Hold on tight.

Signed,

Queen Nightingale

(Your biographer)

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

First, before we begin this, let me apologize for a mistake made last chapter and pointed out by some reviewers; Scorpius would be born 9 months later, not a year later. Sorry, so stupid of me! And thanks to everyone who reviewed - I'm a bit backlogged with replying to all of them right now, but you'll get a reply eventually, I promise! Also, my formatting is a bit screwed up with this chapter, sorry y'allll! Try to enjoy anyways.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

How, really, does any love story start? Is it a glance, a fluttered glimpse of a soul; a soft smile directed your way, or a collision among stars? Does your universe collapse, does the roof of your carefully built house cave in?

That's what I'm like, personally.

Then the doodles start, the hearts decorating your binders, sometimes quickly erased before others can see them, sometimes drawn in pen … the ones that you can't erase. Those ones are always the worst, the most painful reminders of your crush. Then comes the waiting-stage; the pure, lustful wanting where all you do is toss your eraser (which has a Y on one side and an N on the other side) against the table, repeatedly, trying to find out if the other is thinking about you.

Really, that's the fun bit. I've never really managed to get past that stage.

But sometimes love stories don't turn out that way. They're not all clichéd, they don't all start with just a glance. Sometimes lucky people get away with being not hung over another person, and sometimes they get to actually experience true love.

But everyone has different versions of true love. Maybe they were both smashed at a party and ended up hooking up, waking up in the morning to the realization that the other person maybe wasn't JUST a post-break-up fling. Maybe they collided at a coffee shop, where the boy spilled his black coffee on her blouse, effectively soiling her clothing and her mind with his wry grin of apology.

Maybe it was at a bowling alley, where she tripped on the slippery surface and fell into his arms, knocking over his pretzels and his heart.

Maybe it was at a cocktail party, with both of them decked out in their finery; where they caught each others' eyes and started up a conversation about particle physics.

Maybe it was in high school, where he was the attractive womanizer and she was the bookish nerd, popular and not un-pretty in her own way; the stuff that movies and dreams are made of.

Sometimes, though, if you're one of the lucky ones, it doesn't start that way. There's no movie-like introduction between the characters, things don't just HAPPEN to you because you're not a person that things NORMALLY happen to. There's no collision between the two of you, you don't fall into his lap, he doesn't act debonair and charming, and you don't have perfect hair and a ballgown.

Sometimes, really, it just starts with a glance.

* * *

Scorpius grumbled, slamming his face into his pillow as his roommate Isaac Nott punched his shoulder. Swearing fervently, he turned onto his back and dug himself further into the covers.

"Bloody hell, Score," Isaac shoved him again, causing Scorpius to tumble off the bed, wrapped in his covers, "The first day back and ALREADY you're going to be late."

"Mate, just let him be," Hunter Parkinson shouted from across the room, folding his sheets together, "Let the bloke suffer."

"McGonagall will have your head, Scorpius," Jackson Carrow muttered, shaking his head of dark red curls as he shoved his textbooks into his bookbag, falling back onto his four poster bed, his tie askew, "You know what she's like. Bloody cow."

Scorpius moaned an apparent answer, muffled under his sheets on the floor.

"Plus, you never know," Isaac taunted him, kicking Scorpius in the stomach, to which Scorpius flashed Isaac his middle finger, sticking his hand out of his cocoon, "Maybe some of Hogwarts' own got hot over the summer."

"Oh yeah," Hunter replied, buttoning up his untucked shirt, "What was the name of that Ravenclaw girl? The one with all the sharp edges?"

"I didn't know you went for twigs, Parkinson," Jackson smirked at Hunter across the room, causing Isaac to snicker with laughter, making Hunter go slightly red.

"She's not a twig, you bloody arse," Hunter retorted, whirling back around to face his reflection in the mirror, flattening his dark brown mop, "Okay. Maybe she is a bit of a twig. But she's still got a nice face."

"I don't know about you, but I go for girls with a ton of luggage, if you get what I mean," Isaac said, getting cat-calls from Jackson and high-fiving him.

"Oh mates, we are so going to score this year," Hunter grinned ferally at both boys, who smirked charmingly back at him, then noticing Scorpius peacefully sleeping on the floor, "Oh, somebody kick the fool. He's going miss breakfast."

Scorpius' eyes snapped open and he quickly jumped out of his mess of covers, throwing a pair of grey dress pants on and a half-buttoned up shirt, "BREAKFAST? You fucking cunts would have let me miss BREAKFAST?"

Isaac laughed and Jackson leaned against the headpost of his bed, replying as Scorpius ran around throwing on his clothes, "It's not possible for you to miss breakfast, mate. You'd go stark mad and run around the school in your bloody underpants."

Isaac snorted, "Like he hasn't done that already."

Ignoring his three other roommates, Scorpius dashed into the washroom, glancing at the mirror. A painfully handsome boy stared back at him, with touseled dark blond hair and piercing grey eyes. The first two buttons of his white dress shirt were unfastened, and his dark green tie wasn't done up, but merely hung out of his collar. From the full-length mirror, his grey private-school boy pants hung nicely off his body.

"SCORPIUS, STOP STARING AT YOURSELF," Isaac hollered into the washroom, shoving his head in front of Scorpius, who pushed him aside and examined his teeth some more, then looked over at Isaac in shock.

"You have glasses?" Scorpius asked, one of his eyebrows arched questioningly.

"Chicks are attracted to educated men," Isaac said, positioning himself in a lecturing stance, his oversized glasses sliding down his nose, "With these glasses, I exude confidence and sexiness out of every pore in my body."

"YOU LOOK RETARDED, NOTT," Hunter yelled from the main bedroom where he was conversing with Jackson.

"More like exuding nerdiness, Zak," Scorpius smirked, turning back to the mirror where he slapped cologne on his cheeks, "You look like a fucking ponce. Take them off."

"You look like a fucking ponce," Isaac mimicked Scorpius, sighing and then throwing the glasses down on the countertop, "Well, there goes half my ego AND my librarian fantasy."

"Too much info, Zak, too much info," Scorpius guffawed, pushing past him to swing his bookbag onto his shoulder, motioning for the others to follow him out the door.

As they all clambered up the dormitory stairs into what was the Slytherin commons, a petite blonde girl grinned at them from across the room, waving them all over.

"Hey!" Isabel Zabini grinned at them, her wavy shoulder-length hair bouncing as she closed the book that she was reading, snuggled in her green chair, "Scorpius! I haven't seen you in forever!"

"Hey Isabel," Scorpius smiled back, enveloping her in a hug, then standing back and letting her sit back down, "How does third-year have you feeling?"

"Pretty good, pretty good," Isabel pretended to think for a bit, grinning wryly, "Also pretty damn happy that I can finally attend the dances."

Ever since Hogwarts moved into the 21st century, it began to more and more model an upscale English co-ed boarding school, not that many of them still existed. Dances once a month, along with the much cherished Cerise Ball (which many students called 'Pop-A-Cherry' Ball) were established by Headmistress McGonagall, who liked to consider Hogwarts to be a high-class institution. Despite the fact that the goddamn school was called Hogwarts. However, only third year to seventh year (yes, a seventh year was established once the Hogwarts Educational Networking board, aka HEN, decided that seventeen was too young to leave school) students were allowed to attend, to the dismay of the two younger grades.

Scorpius offered Isabel a high-five, grinning in an older brotherly fashion when she eagerly smacked his hand, "Well, I'll see you around then, okay Izzie?"

"Fo sho'!" Isabel nodded at him, then picked up her book and continued reading, but paused for a quick second and perused Scorpius, "You look really hot, Scorpius, but you also look like you've just been laid."

"Tis the point, my innocent flower," Scorpius smirked at Izzie, who rolled her eyes at him, then turned back to her book.

Scorpius turned around and walked back over to his friends, all of whom were waiting impatiently for him. Hunter was running his hands through his dark brown hair, grinning mischeviously at a dark haired girl across the room. Isaac was tapping his foot impatiently, looking down at his watch as he waited. Jackson, shaking his dark red curls, looked to his side and began staring pointedly at a blonde girl, who glanced up from talking to her friends, glared back at Jackson, then turned huffily and ignored him, making Jackson drop his gaze and look up at Scorpius.

"Are you finally done socializing?" Isaac groaned, irritated at Scorpius, who re-slung his book bag over his shoulder and shook his hair across his forehead, "I'm fucking starving!"

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Scorpius rolled his eyes at his friend's dramatics, elbowing Hunter in the stomach (which made Hunter break eye contact with the girl, making a very unattractive OOF noise and collapsing inwards), motioning Isaac forward, "Let's go."

* * *

The Great Hall was crowded with clamorous students, all fighting for a spot at their respective tables. Jackson breezed through the crowd, with Hunter, Isaac, and then Scorpius following him. Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts destroyed the castle, renovations had been made (restoring most of the castle to its original beauty) especially to the Great Hall, refurbishing the formerly faded House banners and retouching the sky with more colour and saturation than ever before. The school still held approximately 100 students per year (with four class-sized houses in each year), but there was a tad more room to be comfortable.

Scorpius sat down next to Dennis Goyle, a large hulk of a boy, who started to spit when he began to talk to a friend, causing Scorpius to cringe and edge away.

"I know you like me Scorpius, but I didn't know you were bloody gay," Hunter's eyes widened as Scorpius moved closer to him.

"You want to sit next to McSpitty over here?" Scorpius groaned in exasperation, shaking his head so his hair swept across his forehead, a fringe sticking out, "Then call me gay."

"Oy!" Isaac yelped out, pointing down the table where yellow cards were being passed down the Slytherins, "The schedules!"

"Save yourself," Jackson said dryly, reaching for a croissant, "Merlin, I hope we don't have much with the Gryffindors. A dose of Albus Potter is only recommended once a day, or else it irritates your stomach. Bloody keener."

"Oh, get over him," Hunter replied, opening his mouth while still eating his cornmeal, making Scorpius flinch, "Just because you're still pissed that he showed you up in front of Mary. Merlin, Carrow. Everyone knows that you're a better seeker, it was just a lucky day for him."

"Damn straight it was a good day for him," Jackson replied, muttering angrily under his breath, "I should have kicked his ass."

Scorpius smirked at Jackson, who appeared absolutely livid, then glanced down the table to look at the girl that captured his fancy, "I really don't understand you though, Jackson. Why her?"

"It's not as though I have a bloody choice in this. I dated Renee for a week or so, remember?"

"I swear I don't get it," Scorpius looked at the pissed off redhead, "And I don't understand her either. You've never fucking talked to the girl, she's never talked to you, and yet BOTH of you refuse to stop looking enamored-ly at the other during the day. I swear, the girl probably hasn't even kissed anyone yet, she's holding out on you. Make a move already."

"Enamored-ly?" Hunter stopped shovelling food into his mouth for a second, looking up at the others, "Is that even a word?"

Isaac sighed, smacking Hunter across the forehead, "It's obviously a figure of speech, doofus."

Scorpius stopped eating for a second and grabbed a yellow card from Hunter, passing the rest of them to Dennis, then flipping his over.

Isaac groaned overdramatically, as he perused his, "Yup. Double potions with the Gryffindorks."

"Herbology with the Ravenclaws! Not bad!" Hunter pumped his arm in the air, causing a couple of nearby girls to twitter, "The two sexiest houses together forever!"

"Divination?" Scorpius said, flabbergasted, "Divination? I swore I dropped that!"

"New rule," Isaac replied, putting his yellow card into his bookbag, "McGonagall insisted on it being taken up until fourth year."

"Bloody hell, I hate that subject," Scorpius rolled his eyes, glancing over at the Gryffindor table as his eyes nonchalantly swiped across the room, then stopped and looked back at the Gryffindors.

A vibrant redhead was giggling with a couple of female friends, and Scorpius looked her up and down, intrigued.

"Hey, who's that girl?" Scorpius elbowed Hunter again, causing him to choke and spit out his oatmeal.

"SCORE!" Hunter shoved him, causing Scorpius to fall into Dennis, who plopped onto the floor, making a resounding thudding noise, making heads turn in the Hall, "Oh shit, sorry mate."

"No problem," Scorpius picked himself off the floor, standing to his full height in the now quieter Main Hall.

"Mr. Malfoy, is there a particular reason why you are constantly causing trouble?"

Scorpius turned to gawp at Headmistress McGonagall, whose lips were firmly pressed shut and severely in need of some sort of botox. The Great Hall quieted as Scorpius stood, uneasily.

He grinned awkwardly at McGonagall, who frowned harder at him, "It really was an accident, Headmistress, no harm done."

"I am not referring to you, Mr. Malfoy, but to Mr. Goyle on the floor."

Scorpius turned and stared at Dennis, who seemed unable to pick himself off the floor due to his obese size.

Jackson started to snicker.

"Uh, here you go, Dennis," Scorpius said, extending his hand and pulling up the hefty boy, "No harm done, yes?"

Dennis just shrugged his shoulders, and sat back down at the table, where he started to stuff his face with food.

Scorpius smirked amicably up at McGonagall, who still seemed livid, and made a move to sit down.

"NOT JUST YET, MR. MALFOY." McGonagall yelled, causing the Great Hall to fall back into a gossip-anticipatory silence, "WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?"

Scorpius glanced down at his clothes, and at Isaac for help, who shrugged his shoulders at Scorpius with helplessness.

"Uh, a white shirt, Headmistress," Scorpius said, slowly identifying all of his clothes, as if talking to a toddler, "Grey pants, white socks - "

"Do you consider Hogwarts to be your own personal boudoir, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall glared at Scorpius, causing a couple Gryffindors to burst into laughter, "Do up your tie and your shirt."

"It's only a boudoir if you want it to be, Headmistress," Scorpius smiled mischeviously at her, causing Isaac to start choking on his orange juice, Jackson to open his mouth in shock, and Hunter to start roaring with laughter, before Scorpius dissolved into hilarity, holding onto the wall for support as his body shook with mirth.

"Mr. Malfoy, you know what I'm going to say …" McGonagall said, threateningly, rising up from her position at the front of the Great Hall.

"Detention!" Scorpius choked out weakly, "Been there, done that!", not even looking at McGonagall as he turned away from her, still laughing madly, pointing his finger in the air and swaggering out of the Great Hall as a drunken prostitute might, followed closely by Isaac, Hunter, and Jackson, who were gasping and roaring with laughter.

As soon as the doors of the Great Hall slammed shut behind them, the Great Hall was filled with noise and chaos as McGonagall rolled her eyes and motioned Filch towards her. On the other side of the Hall, Lily Luna Potter grinned widely, and then turned to her friends to shout at them:

"I really don't understand how that boy gets away with it."

"Neither do I, Ms. Potter," McGonagall replied loudly, turning to face the group of giggling girls, causing them to quiet, "Neither do I."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 2**

Crushes aren't exactly enjoyable things.

Or at least, we all bemoan that they aren't.

They can hit you when you're least expecting it, sticking Cupid's arrow right up your ass when you thought you were finally over the bloody boy.

And the worst part about them, is that you're never sure if the other feels the same way.

Sure, you've got the load of physical hints. Maybe when you're around the boy, he tenses up a bit, laughs a touch too loud, smirks at you a bit too widely. Maybe when you walk past him in the hall you feel as if you just walked past a black hole, with your hormones revved up to physically stick yourself to him. Maybe when he talks to you, you notice that he seems almost (ALMOST) as nervous as you, and stutters a bit too much. Or maybe he just doesn't talk to you, which seems almost as odd since the boy talks to almost everyone.

But the problem is that all of these signals can also insinuate despicability. He probably doesn't talk to you because your nose is too large, or your lips too fat, or your ass too flat. He probably stutters because he's trying to leave the situation. He probably laughs too loud because your constant perusal of the boy makes him nervous and awkward, makes him want to run away. And the black hole bit? It's probably one sided. You didn't see HIM struggling to maintain composure when you drifted past.

But no. That's bloody not true.

Because you can fucking FEEL it in your bones that there's something more. That his actions don't indicate that you have intense body odour but instead that he has body ardour. Which doesn't even make much bloody sense but he's so sexy that you're all messed up and you can't think properly and he's confusing you and you're falling for him so damn hard but you want to stop but equally don't and WHY DOESN'T HE JUST MAKE A GODDAMN MOVE?

Well, that's kind of the problem.

Your friends, also, are divided. One half of them comforts you; but you can tell in their mind that they're either thinking "He honestly doesn't like her" or "She needs to stop imagining things". Those people are almost unbearably condescending to be around. The other side of your friends believe you when you insist that he likes you back; but they're thinking that you're both too shy or something to ever make it work. That if you two haven't made out in a closet the minute after you both realized you were crushing on each other, the relationship is a complete flop.

But sometimes the worst part of a crush is that you never know when it might end.

(Because you actually are quite happy being miserable about this boy.)

Timing is everything, really. What if you've been on-and-off liking a boy for the past five years, finally like him when you think he likes you, but after the weekend, what if you just stop? What if the lovebug doesn't come right back, and doesn't bite you? And what if he still keeps on giving all those physical hints?

And you know that you should live in the moment and all and go up to him and just kiss the bloody boy but you're so typically old-fashioned that you imagine in your head how unromantic it is for a girl to start a relationship. So you don't start a relationship.

And to your surprise, the lovebug still keeps on biting you. Right now, you're COVERED in bites.

When you look at him, all you can do is think about how awesome his hair would feel like, or how his crooked grin is charming or how his barking laugh is pretty sexy. You, for some mental dissociation or problem attacking your brain, think all his faults are perfection.

And isn't he thinking the same thing?

* * *

Scorpius pranced down the hallway, high-fiving armoured knights as he laughed past them, a foot ahead from his giggling friends.

"I cannot believe you did that, Score!" Isaac howled, clutching onto Hunter as they both laughed furiously.

"Yeah, seriously mate," Jackson grinned wryly, shaking his head of dark red curls, "The entire school must think that you've gone completely bonkers."

An image of the redheaded girl flashed in Scorpius' mind, and he stopped for a second, turning to face Hunter.

"Wait, Hunter," Scorpius paused, leaning against a knight, "Who was that girl?"

"What motherfucking girl were you talking about, Score?" Hunter replied back, confused, stopping for a second to think, "All I remember was a painful elbow to my side."

"Oh, you'll live," Scorpius rolled his eyes, reslinging his bookbag on his shoulder, and strolling beside Hunter as Jackson and Isaac followed behind them in the empty hallway, "Didn't you see her though? The redhead?"

"There are like, an infinite number of redheads in this school," Isaac retorted, eavesdropping in on the conversation, "After the Weasleys and Potters got their groove on. No offense, Jackson."

Jackson shrugged, and continued following the group, "None taken, Zak."

"She was relatively small, maybe 5"3 or 5"4-ish?" Scorpius questioned Hunter, stopping in the middle of the hallway, "Big eyes. Wavy-ish red hair. Gryffindor. Hunter, you know every single girl in this school. Are you telling me that you don't know this one?"

Isaac fake-gasped.

Hunter started pacing in front of the group of Slytherin boys, deep in thought, as Scorpius, Isaac and Jackson patiently watched him.

Suddenly, Jackson quickly inhaled and spun to face Scorpius, "Dear lord, Score! I know who she is!"

"Well, don't leave me bloody hanging, then," Scorpius scowled at the now-smirking Jackson, "Who is she?"

"Our little ickle-witty-bitty Scorpius," Jackson said, grinning from ear to ear as Scorpius started steaming, "Has just seen Albus Potter's little sister!"

Scorpius' mouth dropped.

"That, was Lily Potter?"

"Damn straight, Score," Jackson replied, looking over at Hunter's and Isaac's shocked faces, "You just met the littlest Potter."

Scorpius' mind whirred rapidly as he stalked in front of the group of boys, his brain in array, "You mean to tell me that Lily Potter has been attending Hogwarts for … how many years now?"

"Three," Isaac stage-whispered, just to be elbowed by Hunter and glared at by Scorpius.

"And we NEVER once used her against dear old Albie?" Scorpius said, his eyes widening in shock.

"Well," Jackson replied dryly, leaning against the wall outside their Transfiguration classroom, "We never really had any reason to. The girl has never directly attacked us. Or hurt any one of us. Although being a Potter kind of is self-explanatory."

Hunter grinned with his canines, nudging Isaac who started smirking, "Think of the things we could do."

"And incur the wrath of her entire family?" Scorpius replied, trying to stem the topic away, "I'm not sure if it's such a great idea, actually, now that I think about it. Nobody cares about Albus, but I have no doubt that if we emotionally harm the little Potter we'd have hell to pay."

"Like we haven't at one point had the entire Weasley-Potter sect chasing us down the hall," Hunter pointed out, musing thoughtfully.

"Like YOU haven't infuriated the entire Gryffindor house by changing their password," Isaac added, smirking.

"And, like there is not a long-standing rivalry between Gryffindors and Slytherkings that makes us almost have to use her in some way," Jackson grinned, nudging Isaac and Hunter, who nodded in agreement.

"No, I don't think I'm up for it."

Isaac smirked at Scorpius, who glowered back at him, thinking about the petite redhead who he had just seen, "Is our little ickle-witty-bitty Scorpius going soft?"

Scorpius' eyes widened and he started laughing, pointing at Isaac, who stood smirking beside Hunter and Jackson, "Don't you peer-pressure me. That isn't fair. You're BULLYING me."

"Chickennnn," Jackson softly murmured, as Hunter began to caw loudly in the hallway.

Scorpius shook his head, his hair falling softly, as he smirked at his friends, "There is nothing that you can say to make me do this and incur the wrath of the Potters, absolutely nothing."

"Nothing?" Jackson replied, smirking widely.

"Nothing. At all." Scorpius stuck his tongue out at the group of boys.

"Scorpius Malfoy," Jackson replied, turning to grin at Hunter and Isaac before turning back, "Is not a man if he does not make Lily Potter fall in love with him, if that is even physically possible - ", Isaac guffawed, " - then brutally dump her in front of the entire school."

Scorpius stood stoically for a second, before exploding in frustration, "THAT'S NOT BLOODY FAIR! YOU USED THE MAN ARGUMENT!"

"NOT LIKE YOU HAVEN'T USED IT ON US, SCORE!"

"YOU CAN'T USE IT ON ME! I AM MOST DEFINITELY A MAN!"

"THEN PROVE IT!"

"NOT BLOODY FAIR NOT BLOODY FAIR!" Scorpius roared at his friends, who stood howling with laughter, before stalking away from them down the hallway.

"Aww, Score," Isaac yelled down the hallway, making the blond turn around and snarl, "Don't be a poor loser."

"NGAGHHH," Scorpius groaned loudly, stomping back towards his friends, "I don't want to do it."

Hunter grinned ferally, "Then you're not a man - "

"I AM A BLOODY MAN, I'LL DO IT!" Scorpius shouted at Hunter, who dissolved into laughter along with Isaac and Jackson.

Jackson wiped a couple fake tears from his eye, glancing over at Scorpius, then said, "This is so clichéd. You know that you'll fall in love with the girl instead of the other way around, you'll wipe your ass trying to get out of this, you'll have a big fight with her, you'll break up, she'll find out about this, then you'll have amazing make-up sex. But you still won't be a man."

"When pigs fly," Scorpius replied, glaring at his friends, who dissolved into laughter again, " … This is such a bad idea."

"It is," Isaac snorted, "But it'll be funny if you can't do it. Because then you won't be a man."

The three started to laugh even harder, clutching their stomachs.

"Wow, because I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT EARLIER," Scorpius retorted, glaring at his friends who were convulsing on the floor with giggles, "Oh, get over yourselves. Clean yourselves up, and lets get to class." Scorpius stalked into the transfiguration classroom, leaving the three boys behind, flashes of Lily Potter going off in his head.

It was silent in the hallway as Jackson, Isaac, and Hunter looked at each other.

"I wonder what got his panties in a twist," Isaac said, turning to smirk at Hunter.

"I DON'T WEAR MOTHERFUCKING PANTIES. I'M NOT A BLOODY WOMAN."

The three boys howled with laughter, as Scorpius pouted furiously in the classroom, alone with his thoughts. And apparently female underwear.


	4. Chapter 4

PS: I changed names to Queen Nightingale from lostmoonsoldier. Just a head's up. Continue! Also, I'd like to make Scorpius be in 5th year. Makes things more realistic.

* * *

There are three things in life that never fail to interest humans.

Love, sex, and money.

All three of them are practically unobtainable to some degree.

Love, the primary conquest discussed in this series, is controversially the most desired. People have killed for love, given up sex for love, and paid money for love (although none of these three methods worked QUITE so well).

Sex, … well, is sex.

And money can't buy happiness, but it certainly can buy a good imitation of it.

If you could have one of the three, for LIFE, without having any of the others, which one would you choose?

* * *

Scorpius slammed his books down onto a table in the last row in the Potions classroom, garnering a look of disgust from Albus Potter in one of the front rows and a snort from Jackson.

"Aww, is little Scorp still upset about having to fuck a Gryffindork?" Hunter said, turning around from his chair and smirking at Scorpius who gave him a dirty glare.

Jackson put down his belongings in the seat beside Scorpius, grinning with Isaac as they watched Scorpius. "I think he'll chicken out."

"I'm too young to die," Scorpius moaned, settling his head down on the table, "My dignity will be forever tainted. A Gryffindork?"

"Well it will be anyways," Isaac snorted, getting out a quill from his bag from beside Hunter, "And it wasn't like you were exactly the most dignified boy out there anyways."

The foursome quieted down as Professor Olenka stormed into the room, black hair swirling around her as she used her wand to slam closed the topmost shutters in the Dungeons classroom, causing the entire room to fall into a sombre black light. After Snape was killed in the Second Battle of Hogwarts, Hogwarts had gone through a series of Potions masters, finally settling on Professor Olenka, who had originally taught at Durmstrang before being fired for 'unknown reasons'. The woman was not your typical Potions master either; no greasy hair or oil-blotted skin – however, her eyes were as black and large as saucers. Terribly frightening to any non-Slytherins. Needless to say, she instantly favoured the snakes in her classroom.

"Page 607," She yelled, causing the Gryffindors to yelp and the Slytherins to gleefully watch their doom, "Amortentia."

"Professor Olenka," Rose Weasley snuffled from the front of the classroom, garnering a guffaw from Hunter, who shut up as soon as she turned to glare at him, "Amortentia is a fifth year concept, and a highly developed one at that."

"Shut up, Miss Weasley." Professor Olenka replied, causing the four naughty Slytherins to guffaw and snicker, while Rose shot them nasty looks, "And open the book."

Scorpius grabbed his Potions textbook and flipped to page 607, where he glanced at a picture of a nauseatingly pink potion that was apparently emitting fumes of little gaseous hearts. Jackson snickered loudly at the picture, peering over Scorpius' shoulder and loudly moaning, "Oh, Scorp, I smell your delicious body odour emanating off your pink panties! I think I'm in love."

"Shut up Jackson," Scorpius mumbled back, not paying attention to him, staring intensely at the pink hearts floating from the beaker, "My gosh. It's a picture that makes you instantly feel like a ponce."

"Well, you already are one, Malfoy, so no need to worry," Albus Potter turned around from his seat at the front of the classroom, smirking in an extremely Slytherin manner as two of his buddies grinned at each other.

"In your dreams, Potter, in your dreams," Scorpius yawned, blatantly ignoring Albus, who almost seemed to pout before instantly growling and turning away.

"MR. POTTER," Professor Olenka shouted, her back to the class as she scribbled on the chalkboard, her black and frizzy hair moving in time with the chalk, "Please refrain from discussing your sexual preferences with another uninterested student from now on in my classroom. Minus 5 points from Gryffindor."

Albus scowled, turning around once again, shooting Scorpius a dirty look, to which Scorpius waggled his fingers at him and batted his lashes.

"Now, can anyone tell me one of the ingredients used in amortentia and why it is so powerful?", Professor Olenka said, prowling at the front of the classroom and glaring at the students up and down. Where the Slytherins looked mildly interested and intrigued, the Gryffindors were clearly terrified and covered in perspiration at the thought of any potions-related question, "Ms. Potter?"

"Ah-ha!" Scorpius howled from the back of the classroom, causing some students to turn and watch him, "I knew he was a girl!"

"No, Mr. Malfoy, we have a new visitor, actually," Professor Olenka smirked at the surprised Scorpius, whose mouth dropped as Hunter began to laugh riotously, "Ms. Potter, a third-year Gryffindor, will be joining our classroom due to her decent performance on an advanced placement test last year."

"Ms. Potter?" Scorpius whispered to Jackson, his mouth dropping further open and his eyes swivelling around, "Oh, hell no …"

His gaze landed on the same petite redhead who he saw at breakfast, sitting in the seat right across from him in the back of the Gryffindor section, beside two other girls. Up close her imperfections were more noticeable, with an interesting slightly crooked nose and a scar under her eyebrow. Her red hair was twisted into a loose, slightly frizzy bun at the back of her head, and the sleeves of her blouse were rolled up, revealing thin wrists and a slight dusting of hair on her arms. She seemed very skinny from what he could make of it, all 'sharp edges', as Hunter might say, and when his gaze finally travelled up to meet her startlingly dark blue eyes, she raised an eyebrow at him and waggled her fingers at him mockingly.

Scorpius sank into his seat, edging closer to Jackson, who started guffawing with laughter.

"Oh, fuck my life."

"Am I contagious?" The Potter girl said, grinning amiably at him, but also staring with a touch of the infamous Gryffindor contempt.

"No, I'm just no good for you," Scorpius replied, gritting his teeth as he kicked Jackson hard in the leg, as the boys started dissolving into surprisingly feminine giggles.

"What are the chances?" Isaac said, punching Scorpius in the arm, "Just WHAT are the chances?"

The Potter-girl (as Scorpius began to call her in his head) merely arched an eyebrow at Scorpius, who met her gaze stoically, then turned back to her table.

"Whatever."

At the front of the classroom, Professor Olenka began to start her lecture about amortentia, but Scorpius ignored her, turning around and grabbing Hunter's tie, nearly strangling the boy.

"I. am. not. doing. it." Scorpius menacingly growled at Hunter, whose face was slowly turning blue, while Isaac smirked at the enraged Malfoy.

"Then you will give us the right to say that you're not a man." Isaac said, retrieving his cellphone out of his pocket and opening it up, reading a text he just got.

(Hogwarts had, indeed, finally had reached the age of technology. It had also, incidentally, forgotten to lock its Wi-Fi connection – which is what happens when you put Filch in charge of anything to do with the internet.)

"Yo!" Isaac grinned ferally, hitting Hunter on the back and releasing him from Scorpius' chokehold, "Higgs and Bletchley are throwing a party tonight! Slytherin commons room!"

"Higgs and Bletchley?" Jackson said, turning around, "Aren't they sixth years? Or are they seventh?"

"Higgs is seventh," Hunter coughed out, glaring at Scorpius, who ignored him, listening to Isaac, "He's a pretty skinny guy, actually. Apparently his dad played seeker or something. His name's Ghislain, I think."

(Biographer's Note: Ghislain is pronounced with a hard G and no emphasis on the s.)

"Ghislain," Isaac said, thinking aloud, "That's a name you don't often hear. But yeah. What about Bletchley?"

"Can't say I've heard of the guy," Hunter replied, looking at Jackson and Scorpius for confirmation. Jackson shrugged.

"Oh, Bletchley?" Scorpius said, grabbing Isaac's phone and looking at the text, "Yeah, he was in my Divination class a couple years ago. He's seventh. First name is Jason. He's a huge hulk of a guy, like Dennis but bulky. Nasty sort of fellow. Just the type you'd want to throw a wicked party." Scorpius smirked.

"Do you know who's on the guest list?"

"Let me check," Scorpius replied to Hunter, leaning back in his chair and scrolling down the list, "Us, obviously, Flint, Vaisey, Urquhart, Bole, Derrick, Montague, Bullstrode, Zabini, Harper, Baddock and Pritchard are the ones we know. The rest are a bunch of older Slytherins and Ravenclaws, I think. The regulars."

"Jason Bletchley and Ghislain Higgs," Jackson softly said, whipping out his own phone and reading the text, raking his hand through his dark red curls as he did, "Didn't know they hit the party circuit."

"I don't know and I don't care," Hunter hollered, then lowered his voice with a wry grin when Professor Olenka glared at him, "Paaaarty tonight, mates!"

Across the table, Scorpius noticed the Potter-girl watching them with a quiet smirk.


End file.
